Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

Maggie was pleading with the man, the old biddy raised her stick and gave him another sound smack. When he snatched the stick and threw it aside, she calmly reached into her pocket and, taking out a small snuff tin, she opened it up and threw the contents all over him.

      The poor man was half blinded, and so were most of the people sitting alongside. The chaos was widespread, with everybody coughing and sneezing, and somewhere near the aisle a fight broke out; stalwart as ever, Maggie tried desperately to separate the warring pair.

      Suddenly the film was stopped, and the manager rushed into the fray, the ticket lady and another usherette bringing up the rear. ‘What the devil’s going on here?’ he demanded to know.

      Somehow, amidst all the booing and screams of ‘Get the picture back on!’, they managed to separate the injured and led them up the aisle to the first-aid room.

      Right behind them, Maggie marched the offending couple to the door. ‘I shan’t be coming here again!’ The old lady was adamant. ‘And neither will I!’ The man was equally adamant. And, after a stream of abuse, all aimed at Maggie, they went off down the street chatting to each other like two old friends.

      Inside, with the film now back on, the people were happily screaming, while Maggie stood at the back, brushing the brown snuff from her lovely uniform, and rubbing her sore eyes.

      She almost leapt out of her skin when the manager seemed to creep up behind her. ‘See me in the office afterwards,’ he said, before shuffling away. Her heart sank.

      When the picture was over and everyone filed out, Maggie closed the door behind them. ‘I’d best get this lot totted up,’ the ticket woman said, and got out her adding machine.

      Leaving her there, Maggie made her way to the office, where the manager was pacing up and down. ‘It’s no good,’ he told Maggie as she came through the door, ‘this is the last straw.’

      ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      ‘Huh! I’m surprised you need to ask. It was bloody mayhem in there! We had to give fourteen people their money back, and I’ve no doubt that, come tomorrow, the complaints will be pouring in.’ He observed her uniform, stained with snuff, and her eyes all red and sore where she’d been rubbing them. ‘Look at you, woman! You’re a mess …’

      Maggie was up in arms. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’

      ‘Oh no!’ He threw up his hands in frustration. ‘It never is, but somehow when Sandra’s away and you’re up front, the world goes mad! I’m sorry, Maggie, I’ll have to let you go. You seem to forget I don’t own this place. I’m just the manager. I work for a wage the same as the rest of you.’ Though he was fearful of her reaction, he would rather she got the sack than him. ‘You stay here while I collect the takings. I’ll have to pay you out of that, and rectify it later. I’ll give you two weeks’ severance, and a fortnight’s holiday pay. That’s more than generous if you ask me.’ In fact part of it was a bribe to keep her mouth shut about his indiscretions. He would have to make the difference up out of his own pocket, but that would be a small price to pay for getting rid of her.

      By the time he got to the ticket-booth, Edith had already bagged the money. ‘We’re well short,’ she said, handing it over with the ledger. ‘Having to pay back on fourteen tickets left a big hole in the takings.’

      ‘Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.’ He bade her and the other usherette goodnight. ‘See you tomorrow, Mr Ellis,’ they chorused. And they went away laughing about the night’s events. ‘You never can tell what might happen in this place when Maggie’s about,’ said the usherette as their laughter echoed through the darkened street.

      While the manager was gone, Maggie waited. She was fed up: she’d liked the job. ‘I suppose it’s time I moved on,’ she mused. ‘With a few weeks’ pay, I can go and see Kathy. I might even be able to get a job with her at that holiday site.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘I might even find myself a proper bloke.’

      Just then the telephone rang. Intrigued, Maggie picked it up. ‘Hello, this is the Rialto. Can I help you?’ She liked to answer the telephone; it gave her a feeling of authority.

      The caller was the manager’s wife. ‘Could you please bring my husband to the phone?’

      Maggie had an idea. ‘Oh, Mrs Ellis, I’m glad you called, I was just looking for your number … y’see, your husband’s not very well. Oh, no, he’s not bad enough to send for an ambulance. He seems to think it’s something he ate. The trouble is, he’s been sick and he feels really queasy. He needs a lift home, and I can’t help. I only wish I could.’

      ‘Get him a taxi.’

      ‘I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to find one. So, do you think you could come and fetch him?’

      The voice at the other end shook with anger. ‘I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?’ And the receiver was slammed down.

      A moment later the manager returned. ‘Now then, let’s get this over with.’ Throwing himself into his seat, he reached into the desk and got out his adding machine, which he proceeded to tap, while at the same time telling her, ‘I don’t have to pay you a month’s wages, but I think we know each other well enough to realise this situation can’t go on.’ Bagging her wages, he slid them across the desk and sat back, eyes closed and his hand soothing his brow. ‘It’s all there. Now get out!’

      When she didn’t answer, he glanced up and was rooted to the spot: while he had been tapping away, Maggie had been undoing her jacket. Now she stood before him with her breasts in all their naked glory. ‘Jesus!’ His face went a purple shade of red and the sweat broke out in torrents down his back. ‘Put your clothes on, woman, before somebody comes in!’ His eyeballs swivelled to the door then back to Maggie, and with his mouth open he gaped at her, positively dribbling. ‘You little vixen.’ He tried hard to hold the smile down but, like a certain other part of his body, it popped up, out of control. ‘Maggie, behave!’ In truth, Maggie behaving was the last thing he wanted.

      Maggie smiled seductively. ‘They’ve all gone home, my love,’ she teased, ‘we’re on our own now.’ Sidling up to the desk, she leaned over, her rather ample breasts almost touching his face as she purred invitingly, ‘I thought we might say our goodbyes properly. After all, we have been very close, haven’t we?’

      Realising what she meant, he gulped so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed up, getting stuck for a minute, before it bobbed down again. ‘Oooh, whatever will I do with you?’

      It was all she could do not to laugh out loud. ‘Whatever takes your fancy,’ she said and, grabbing him by the collar, drew him forward, planting the longest, wettest kiss of his entire life on his open mouth; by which time he was putty in her hands.

      A few minutes later, with Maggie in his arms, the door opened and in walked his wife. It was what Maggie had been waiting for. ‘NO! Get off me!’ Putting on the best show of her life, Maggie pretended to fight him off. As soon as he realised what she was up to, he began shouting about how it was all Maggie’s fault. ‘She’s a witch! She enticed me …’

      Falling all over the place as he tried desperately to do up his trousers, the poor man was assailed from both sides, with Maggie thrashing him with her shoe, and his wife tugging at his arm until he was sure it had come off at the socket. ‘You’re a beast!’ she cried. ‘You’ve always been a beast. This is the third time I’ve caught you at it, but it won’t happen again because I’m off.’

      She landed such a slap on his face that it echoed round the room, and even Maggie took a step back. ‘I won’t forgive you this time!’ she cried. ‘By the time you get home, I’ll have packed my bags and be long gone!’

      Ducking and diving between the two, Maggie grabbed her wages and, buttoning up her jacket, she headed for the door. ‘I don’t blame you,’ she cried. ‘The man’s off his head. He just went for me. He pinned me down and tore my clothes off. I’m going to the police. I’ll make him pay